


The Touch of Leather

by Fujiwara_no_Seimei



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-28
Updated: 2010-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-10 07:38:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fujiwara_no_Seimei/pseuds/Fujiwara_no_Seimei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mihashi has a turn on that Abe is happy to indulge, and it may or may not involve sports equipment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Simple Request

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oofuri Kink Meme](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Oofuri+Kink+Meme).



Abe had always told Mihashi he should talk more. Tell him more of what was on his mind, not less.

Since they had started making out, things had progressed easily enough. Some kissing, a little touching, a little more touching- this was fine, well, and normal.

But lately, Mihashi had that look in his eye. That familiar look that said he wanted to say something but was too afraid. And what was most worrisome was that the same look was present both on the field and in the bedroom.

This went on for so long (two weeks, at least) that Abe was prepared for the "something" on Mihashi's mind to be more than typically embarrassing or selfish. But he was not especially prepared for this.

\---  
Yet here he was. Standing at the foot of Mihashi's bed. The lights were off, but he could still see him, moonlight streaming in hard through the open window. He could see Mihashi's crisp, naked figure, sitting on the bed, waiting, breathing heavy.

Abe took a deep breath, and took off his shirt. He picked up his catcher's mitt, and stepped up on the bed with his knees.

The bed gave gently under his weight, creaking a bit too loudly for Abe's nerves. But when it made Mihashi gasp with anticipation, a fuzziness washed over Abe that dampened his nervousness.

He sat in front of Mihashi, taking in the sight, and took another deep breath.

"Please...Abe..." Mihashi said, trembling, and Abe blushed hard as he noticed Mihashi's member jerking to life between his thighs.

Abe reached out, slowly, tentatively, and Mihashi closed his eyes, breathing harder. The leather of the tip on the mitt just barely brushed Mihashi's nipple, and he was as good as gone.  
"Ahhhh," Mihashi groaned, shoulders dipping forward, cock springing into full attention.  
Abe couldn't help but to be a little aroused at the reaction, and found himself pressing ahead.  
He pushed the mitt forward, caressing, in an awkward way, Mihashi's chest, and then curved the glove around his shoulder.   
"Ahhhhhyes..." he moaned, biting his lip. The glove brushed his cheek, and Mihashi turned to press his face into it. The worn, polished, musty leather scent was intoxicating. "Ahh," he growled, flicking out his tongue wantonly to lick the stitches.  
"Ung!" Abe grunted, jerking a bit as his own erection tented his boxers. This was too sexy, way too sexy. This shouldn't be this sexy, because it was Mihashi and his mitt and oh God Mihashi's cock is so big and hard, what the hell-

Breathing hard now, Abe reached around to run the mitt down Mihashi's spine. Mihashi lifted himself up on his knees to assist the motion, mouth hanging open and groaning needily. Abe curled the mitt around Mihashi's buttock, and Mihashi latched his hands onto Abe's shoulder and moaned.  
"Takaya...unnn..."  
Abe was panting hard now, Mihashi on full, glorious display in front of him, hard cock bobbing around as he swayed needily.  
'Should I touch there?' he wondered, bringing the mitt back around to the front, intoxicated by the way Mihashi moved, writhed in front of him as the glided the rough leather along that pink skin. And then, mitt splayed over the pitcher's stomach, Mihashi spread his knees apart a little, leaning his pelvis forward as if to answer Abe's silent inquiry.  
Encouragement noted, Abe dragged the mitt down Mihashi's stomach, swiping over his desperately throbbing dick.   
"G...God!" Mihashi shouted, trembling, pushing himself into the palm of the mitt.  
Abe had had more than enough time to admire now, and reached into his underpants to stroke himself with his gloveless hand.  
"Ung, oh, Mihashi," he mumbled, gliding the edge of the glove slowly, tortuously down Mihashi's length.   
"Ohhhhh yes, Takaya, yes..."  
Once it reached the edge, Mihashi's cock flicked up, a tiny drop of precum flicking away with it, and Mihashi bucked hard.  
"Ugh, more, Takaya, please!" He groaned, eyes shut tight. Abe was too far gone now to disobey.

Abe pumped himself furiously now, gasping hard as he shoved Mihashi down flat on his back and wrapped the mitt around his pitcher's dick.  
"Yes, yes!" Mihashi belted, groaning and writhing.  
Abe started pumping him, as well as he could, with the mitt, and Mihashi moaned and thrusted against him.  
"Ung, ung, yes," he moaned with each thrust, "Abe, Abe, yes, Abe!"  
And soon it was happening, Mihashi's hands clenched tight in the sheets, the pitcher trembling, jerking, biting his lip as he came all over the glove.

They gasped for air desperately in what was otherwise silence for a minute, and then, languidly but without warning, Mihashi leaned up and forward, took the mitt in both hands, and proceeded to clean it off with his tounge.

"Oh..God, Mihashi," Abe said, unbelieving at what the sight was doing to him. He slipped his hand out the glove, and pushed his underwear down around his knees, massaging his balls as he continued to stroke himself.

Mihashi looked up, with heavy eyes, for just a moment, before laying the glove carefully on the bed and leaning over it to resume his cleaning.

"Mi...mihashi," Abe said, pumping, trembling, "Li...lick it...yes..."  
As if he were prepared to put on a show, Mihashi ran his tounge hard against the thumb of the leather glove, streaks of cum gliding on to his tounge, and he moaned a bit, which made it decidedly even hotter.

"Ung, yes, oh God, Mihashi-" Abe shouted, "lick it, lick it, oh God!" and he was fisting hard now, so near release.  
Mihashi let out one last, sick groan as he pressed his tongue hard into the palm of the mitt, and Abe shouted, doubling over as he came hard, harder than he ever had, watching Mihashi's tounge flick ceremoniously over the black leather of the glove.

It was a mess, really, sweat and cum all over the sheets, Abe in a pile at the foot and Mihashi leaning over him and what is now a now decidedly very clean glove.

"A...amazing," Abe groaned, and Mihashi leaned down to kiss his forehead with agreement.

"Abe...kun?" Mihashi said. "I was wondering..."  
"What?" Abe replied, pretty much ready to agree to anything Mihashi asked at this point if it meant more amazing orgasms like that.

"Next time...? Can you...bring your leg guards?"


	2. Omake

It takes Abe a good 48 hours to come to terms with the fact that his pitcher fucked his mitt. And that he totally liked it.

Sitting in his room, trying really hard to actually work on the math homework in front of him, his eyes would keep wandering to the worn configuration of leather hanging from the back of the door, and blushing, unable to push away the image of a naked, flushed, sweaty Mihashi dragging his tongue along it. Eventually, after three good wanks to the memory, he lobbed the damned thing under the bed, out of sight, out of mind.

But that was off of the field. When they were on the field, it was a completely different story. Mihashi was a professional, of course, and the mere sight of the glove didn't seem to disturb his form. But then they weren't in a game, they might be talking or something, and the glove might rub against Mihashi's arm or press against his leg, and the pitcher would glare and, goddamnit, once he even _growled._

That growl alone had earned Abe a few choice meetings with his own hand in the bathroom during practice.

On one otherwise uneventful day, Mihashi ran over to him in one of the pitching pens, to share some little bit of trivial something or other that Tajima had said, and Abe instinctively pulled the glove to his face, as if to hide his mouth from the offending team that wasn't actually there. This was a bad move, and Mihashi's eyes flicked hungrily for only a second, before leaning in that extra couple of inches and licking along the edge.  
"Mihashi!" he hissed. "It's not even clean!" Leave it to Abe to worry only about sanitation when they were in plain view of their teammates.  
Mihashi seemed not to care much, and shrugged, skipping back to his proper distance to pitch again.

Unfortunately, now Abe couldn't squat. He couldn't really move much at all, and the reason was hidden carefully under his protective cup.

This was going to be a long season, he thought.


End file.
